


Last Stand

by Mithen



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Battle, Character Study, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-24
Updated: 2010-09-24
Packaged: 2017-10-12 17:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithen/pseuds/Mithen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Superman and Batman are the last heroes standing.  A missing scene extrapolated from a single panel in <a href="http://mithen.livejournal.com/105942.html#cutid1">Generation Lost #6</a>, describing a possible future:</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Stand

The grass grew green and long where Batman stood, but the air was filled with the acrid sent of burning, a scent that clung to everything. To the north and south, he knew, there were craters filled with radiation, like bowls full of toxin. Hard to believe there were still places like this, untouched and green. The battle had raged for weeks now, and he had seen many friends--and former enemies--fall. He had seen all of them fall, one by one.

As far as Batman knew, they were the last two warriors alive: he and the caped figure in the sky far above.

Shards of light rained down from the sky as Superman battled yet another wave of wraiths, shrugging off their chalk-white talons, sending them scattering, defeated. He had been fighting all day in the sky, while Batman set traps for the mist-pale walkers who roamed the plains, seeking heroes to slay. Batman saw Superman glance down, his gaze finding the dark figure on the ground unerringly.

Their eyes met.

It was almost over, Batman could sense it. The sun was setting, the day waning.

And with the fading sun came the Being behind all the chaos and death, the Force cleansing the world of unnatural influence.

It was made all of white light, radiantly pure, impossible to look at for long. Its vast wings filled the sky, dwarfing the small figure in red and blue, a lone champion of lost heroes.

Batman's fists clenched and he muttered a curse, longing for a jet. But technology had failed them all, had crumbled to dust under the inexorable pass of the Entity's minions across the Earth.

The ground trembled and Batman shifted his footing. The Entity was gathering its strength, like a thundercloud of perfect light, preparing to strike down the alien. The whole Earth rang like a bell, a long, low shuddering, as the air tightened unbearably, all the power in the sky above focusing to a single point, a clash that would bring release.

Superman looked so small. So small and so human, against such a force. But Batman could see in his coiled poise the power necessary to defeat the Entity, to rip it from the sky and bring it to an end. Power ready to meet power.

The storm broke in a barrage of razor-edged light, cascading toward Superman. Batman saw him tense, saw him raise his arms to strike back--

And then, as in a nightmare, he saw shock and dismay go through Superman's body. Superman threw his head back as if crying out, and then his lowered his hands, cast his arms wide, and let the white light pass over and through him unimpeded. It tore through him in rampant triumph, tossing his body aside, to fall tumbling through the air like a leaf.

Then like a stone.

Batman was running, soft grass under his boots. There was white light everywhere, the sky shattered with it, bathing everything in eerie radiance. But it faded away as Batman ran, leaving only a clear blue sky, untouched by anything unnatural.

Superman was lying on the grass, looking upward. There were no marks on his body, no sign of violence. And yet.

And yet.

"What have you done," Batman said, bowing over him, his voice too weary for even anger now. "Clark, what have you done?"

Clark didn't open his eyes. "I felt it," he said, his voice so low that Bruce had to bend even closer to hear it. "I felt the Earth cry out, and I knew that if I fought, the battle would...tear it apart. It would kill everyone left. All the people...we promised to save." A long, slow breath that seemed to take great effort. "Better to lose. There's...life this way. And hope. Some peace." He reached up with difficulty, groping; Bruce grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry."

"I understand," said Bruce.

Clark opened his eyes and met his. After a moment, Bruce reached up with his free hand and pulled off the cowl. Clark smiled, very faintly. "No masks now," he whispered. "Not here."

His gaze went past Bruce to the sky, just starting to slide toward twilight. Bruce looked up and saw three or four bats cutting lines of shadow across the sky. Clark's eyes followed them for a while.

When they stopped, Bruce closed them.

There seemed no particularly good reason to let go of Clark's hands, so he sat there for a while. But quite soon, he could see them coming: pale, shining figures in the dusk, tall and eerie. An army of them, thousands strong, come to cleanse the last resister from the Earth and leave it pristine and pure.

He had told Clark that he understood, and he did. Truly, he did. But he was Batman, and he was Bruce Wayne.

And so he let go of Clark's cooling hands to stand and face them.

He stood between the shining horde and Superman's body, and he smiled at them through gritted teeth. No final words of defiance--let his last words be to Clark.

One shadow against waves of merciless light, he met them.

 **: : :**

Their names became anathema, their memory a curse to frighten small children. The green grass grows long on the hill where they fell, and none remember they were there.

But each spring young lovers come to pick the blue and red flowers that grow thickly there, to plait them into garlands as symbols of fidelity and passion.

It is a fitting memorial, until time shifts and the world changes once more.


End file.
